Hot Docs On Call: Healing His Heart. Alison RobertsЧитать онлайн книгу.
of his burger into his mouth to prove her wrong.
‘I tutor from home so it’s been a while since I’ve had any adult company to vent with. Lucky you, you get to hear me offload first.’
‘It’s a hazard of the job. I’m a surgeon-cum-counsellor.’ His grin said he didn’t mind at all.
It was a relief to get off her chest how much these past two months had impacted on her and not be judged on it. She was doing enough of that herself by constantly comparing herself to her mother when the circumstances were so different. She’d been a young girl in the country, desperate for a family, and Simon, well, he wasn’t more than a baby and had already been through so much. He’d been passed around like an unwanted guest and now he was burned and traumatised by the fire, with no real idea of what was going to come of him.
Her mother had had an advantage simply by living in her rural surroundings. Fresh air and wide open spaces were more conducive to recovery and peace of mind than the smog and noise of the city. However, this was the best place for him to be for his treatment and there was no choice but to soldier on, regardless of location.
‘Do you have a couch in your office we can share?’ It wasn’t until he raised his eyebrow in response she realised how inappropriate that sounded. Today, it was becoming a habit.
An image of more inappropriateness on the furniture behind closed doors with Matt filled her head and made her hot under her black tank top and slouchy grey cardigan. If she’d had any intention of flirting she definitely would’ve picked something more attractive than her slummy mummy attire. Comfy leggings and baggy tops were her security blanket inside the hospital and hadn’t been meant for public display.
‘I mean…I feel as though I should be lying on your couch…you taking notes. As a counsellor, obviously. Not some sort of sofa fetishist who gets off on that sort of thing. I’ll shut up now before you do actually use your authority to call the men in white coats to lock me up.’ Quinn clapped her hands over her face as if they provided some sort of invisibility shield for her mortification. Unfortunately, they weren’t a sound barrier either as she heard Matt cough away his embarrassment.
Very smooth. Not.
Far from building the beginnings of a support system with Matt as a friend, she’d created an even bigger chasm between them with her weirdness. She’d made it crystal clear to herself, and Matt, through her awkward small talk and vivid imagination that she fancied the pants off him. Why else would she be stumbling over her words and blushing like a schoolgirl trying to make conversation with him.
Great. On top of everything else she was actually picturing him with his pants fancied all the way off! The poor man had no clue about the monster he’d created by being so nice to her.
A sweaty, red-faced monster who’d apparently woken up from hibernation looking for a mate.
FOR A SECOND Matt thought he was going to need someone to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre on him to dislodge the French fry in his throat. The shock of Quinn’s imagery had made him swallow it whole.
He gulped down a mouthful of water, relief flooding through him as it cleared his blocked airway.
She hadn’t tried to choke him to death on purpose. There’d been absolutely no malice or deliberate attempt on his life as far as he could tell, when Quinn emanated nothing but innocence and the scarlet tint of embarrassment. Neither, he suspected, had she meant to flirt with him but his body had responded all the same to the idea of them rolling around in his office. Around this woman he lost all control of himself, body and mind. Not to mention his common sense.
His first mistake had been to come here outside of work, only to be compounded by swapping details of their personal lives. Then there was the touching. Offering a reassuring hand, or shoulder to cry on, was part and parcel of his job, but probably not when they were lost in each other’s eyes in a crowded pub.
She drew that protective nature of his to the fore when he’d spent this past year trying to keep it at bay. He’d only intended to show her she wasn’t alone because he knew how it was not to have anyone to turn to when you were weighed down with family stresses. She didn’t have to apologise for the feisty spirit she’d shown as they clashed over Simon’s treatment; she’d need it to get her through. He simply hadn’t expected that spark of attraction to flare to life between them as if someone had flicked a switch.
It had thrown him, sent him scurrying to the bar to wait until it passed. Quinn was the mother of one of his patients.
A mother. His patient.
Two very good reasons to bypass that particular circuit, but no, he kept on supplying power.
Telling her about his family was an eejit move. That was personal and this wasn’t supposed to be about him. He listened, he diagnosed and he operated but he never, ever got personally involved. Not only had he given something of himself by revealing his family circumstances, now he knew her background too. The fact she’d been through the foster system only made her strength all the more remarkable to him.
She was a true survivor and yet she was still willing to give so much of herself to others. He needed to direct her somewhere those qualities weren’t a personal threat to his equilibrium.
‘You know, if you’re at a loss for company, I can introduce you to members of the hospital committee. I’m sure you’ve heard the board is trying to close the place down and we’d be only too glad to have someone else fighting in our corner.’ It would give her something to focus on other than Simon’s treatment and, in turn, might create a bit of distance between them too. She might make a few more friends into the bargain. Friends who weren’t afraid to get too close to her in case it compromised their position or freedom.
‘I did do a spot of picketing today. It would be such a shame to see the place close. Especially after everything you’ve done for Simon there. What happens to you if they do close? What happens to us?’
He could see the absolute terror in her eyes, that brilliant blue darkening to the colour of storm-filled skies, at the thought of more disruption in their lives. It was also an indication that she was relying on him being present in her life for the foreseeable future and that wasn’t an expectation he could live up to.
‘I’d hate to see the place get phased out. Hopefully the campaigning and fundraising will make a difference. As for me, I’m on a temporary contract. I’ll move on soon enough anyway. Like I said, I prefer to be footloose and fancy free these days.’
‘Simon will miss you terribly.’ She broke eye contact and diligently tidied the empty plates into a pile for the server to collect.
A dagger jabbed Matt in the heart at the idea that he’d be the one to cause either of them any further distress.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be around for a while yet and if I stay local there’s always a chance he’d get referred to me anyway.’ At least by then he would’ve had a cooling off period from this particular case.
Quinn nodded, although the lip-chewing continued.
This was the first time his casual new lifestyle had given him cause to rethink his idea of moving from one place to another whenever the mood took him. Whilst the notion of experiencing new people and places was more attractive than remaining stagnant in Dublin, he hadn’t given any thought to patients who might get too attached, or vice versa.
It would be tough to leave his patients here when the time came, but better for him. He’d spent a huge chunk of his life on hold, waiting until others were ready to let go of him. This was supposed to be his time to spread his wings and not get dragged back into any more family dramas.
Despite the hustle and bustle of the pub around them, he and Quinn fell into an uneasy silence. His attraction to her was in direct competition with his longing for a quiet, uncomplicated